And the Winner Is
by sangga
Summary: Woodchopping at the 47th Annual Smallville Spring Fair. In which Lex is lusted after, and both chips and sparks fly.


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Title: And the Winner Is…

Author: sangga

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: If you think about it philosophically, nobody really owns anything.

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Archive: Email please.

Summary: Woodchopping at the 47th Annual Smallville Spring Fair. In which Lex is lusted after, and both chips and sparks fly. Chloe, Lana, Lex, Clark, and cast of thousands.

Note: Fluffity fluff fluff fluff. _Beefcake_ fluff, to be exact. My brain is out the window – Rosenbaum just _got_ to me…brr. And working on another major think piece does wonders for lightweight inspiration.

Spoilers: Sometime, when the characters were less weighed down with Greek tragedy connotations.

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And the Winner Is…

The local fairgrounds are a riot of…something, there's lots of balloons and bright colours at any rate, and the whole thing is starting to blur in her viewfinder into some kind of whirling psychadelic kaleidoscopic multi-hued mess, and she's enjoying herself but starting to feel slightly seasick as well. It's not until she takes the camera away from her face that she realizes where Clark has subtly directed them all to – and keeping in mind that subtlety and Clark are generally not considered, in her mind, to be of the same _oeuvre_ – and she looks up and groans.

"The podium? _Again_? Didn't we already get enough of the quaint rural competitiveness earlier?"

Lana is fishing strands of cotton candy off a stick. Chloe thinks the confection looks like somebody gave Mr Stay Puft a whole glass of cochineal to drink and he threw it all up again. Neither Lana or Clark, who is swigging out of a soda cup and stealing the occasional bite of cotton candy, seem to notice or care. Lana does have the good sense to frown at the podium.

"Yeah, I thought we saw the events we wanted already."

She hands Clark a gob of pink fluff, and he concentrates on getting it into his mouth before replying, nodding and gesturing with his chin.

"We did. But you don't wanna miss this."

Chloe rolls her eyes.

"Clark, we watched the Spring Fair Queen and King, Mayor Tate getting attacked by the microphone cord, the hay-baling, the tractor-pull, and Pete, consuming six sausages in under world record time… What could possibly hold our interest at this juncture?"

He's about to reply when the microphone whistles with ear-splitting feedback. Mayor Tate walks, nay, _stumbles_ onto the stage, which is liberally littered with hay and streamers. He's still struggling with the microphone cord. Chloe is about to comment that, as a town official, he really ought to think about becoming better acquainted with the tools of his trade, when four men walk onto the stage behind him. One of them is Lex Luthor. Eyes go round. Mouths gape. Chloe's voice goes all strangled.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"Nope." Clark tugs more cotton candy off Lana's stick while she's checking out the podium. "This is his event. Remember that conversation you dragged him into at the Talon?"

"You mean he took that _seriously_?"

"I think Lex takes everything seriously," Clark grins.

Lana is practically scowling now. She's confused, looking back and forth between her programme of events and the dapper figure amongst the farmers and farmer's sons up on the wooden dais.

"But this can't be right. This is the –"

"…woodchop semifinal of the 47th Annual Smallville Spring Fair," intones Tate, through a howl of feedback. Clark winces as the man continues. "The fastest axe of this round will go through to the final at the end of the day. Our competitors are Lloyd Davis, Bob Brinslow, last years' finals champion, Jem Aikens, and…Lex Luthor."

Tate sounds almost as confused as Lana looks. Each man steps up as their name is spoken to greet the small but slowly gathering crowd. Lloyd Davis is a younger guy with big hands and an extraordinary head of orange hair, crammed under a black Sharks cap. Chloe recognizes Bob Brinslow – he sometimes does the outside gardening at the school, and she's seen him working when she's rushing to finish last-minute paste-ups at the Torch offices. Jem Aikens is a slightly built man in overalls, older than her own dad but with a weathered look that adds extra years. And Lex…

Lex is the only man on the podium not wearing steel-capped boots. Chloe thinks that he looks vaguely unsure of himself, and wonders if any of the casual onlookers have picked it up yet. She's relieved to see that he avoids giving the emperor's wave, just glancing up briefly and nodding to the crowd. Although he's forsaken the jacket and tie, he's still wearing a shirt and dress pants that wouldn't look totally out of place at some of the nicer Metropolis restaurants. Chloe grins, and watches his eyes dart around at the other competitors, the whole damned situation. The thought that he is most probably cursing her name at this very moment is almost enough to warrant a laugh.

Jem Aikens, being the current champion, receives a round of applause, while Lex and the others earn a smattering of polite but curious claps. There's a thick pillar of hardwood turned side-on in front of each man, secured with nailed blocks. An axe rests beside each pillar, and now the competitors are spending a bit of time trying to look nonchalant as they examine their blades.

Lana, who has twigged by now and put her cotton candy well out of Clark's reach, suddenly turns her evillest glare on him.

"You didn't tell us!"

"I was sworn to secrecy," he grins. He doesn't seem to be withering under her impression of the Look of Death. "Dad's been training him up for two weeks."

"_Your_ father? Training _Lex Luthor_ for the Spring Fair woodchop?"

Chloe looks like the earth has opened up and all she knew and believed just fell into the hole. Clark just shrugs.

"He was pretty up-front about it – wanting to get involved in the community and all that stuff you guys talked about. And he's been working really hard. Dad says he's actually pretty good."

"Didn't your dad win the championship one time?" Lana asks.

"He's retired," Clark says, then admits with a smile. "But he's still got the trophy upstairs in the barn."

Chloe is nodding, eyes narrowed, like she's having a realization and a headache all at the same time.

"Oh, _I_ get it. And you just _happened_ to mention this to Lex, and he just _happened_ to approach your dad…"

She checks around and, sure enough, sees Martha and Jonathan Kent standing at a discrete distance on the outskirts of the crowd. She turns back at the podium in time to see Lex look over and give Jonathan a polite nod. At which point she throws up her hands.

"Well, this is just _too_ bizarre, even by Smallville standards."

Lana, who's looking a little peaky from the excess of junk food, pouts and rounds on Clark.

"How come you never went in for this event?"

He raises his eyebrows, sipping his soda.

"You think I don't do enough woodchopping at home?" But now he's seen the direction of Lex's eyes, and catches sight of his parents. "Hey, gimme a second, I gotta talk to dad about driving you guys back."

He snakes his way through the crowd and Lana and Chloe, with nobody left in between, turn to each other with twin expressions of confusion. Then they both burst out laughing.

"Who woulda thunk it?" Chloe hiccups, nodding to where Lex is standing on the podium.

Lana puts her hands on her hips, watching the man with a speculative grin.

"Hm. Never picked him as the woodchopping type."

"Maybe the skeet-shooting, or – hey, do they have an event for fast driving?"

"What about the dunking pool?"

"Sounds perfect – where does the queue start?"

Their laughter seems to reach above the crowd noise to where Lex is making his preparations, and he peers out over the heads for the source of the noise, daring it to happen again.

"Very community-minded, too" Lana giggles.

"Exactly," Chloe adds, as they both watch the men on the podium take their positions. Lloyd Davis turns his cap back-to-front and takes off his shirt, to hoots of appreciation from the crowd. Bob Brinslow rolls up his sleeves, and Jem Aikens fastens the loose strap of his overalls. Chloe is still laughing. "Lex could've signed up for one of the concession booths. Those spruiker's hats are so -"

Lex unbuttons and pulls off his shirt.

Chloe feels the laughter die in her throat, and because she and Lana have kind of fallen against one another, she can feel when the other girl freezes. Now they're both staring. Lex is wearing a tight white sleeveless undershirt and is now sliding on a pair of cowhide gloves. Lex is…

"Wow," Lana manages, before blushing.

"Holy crap," Chloe chokes. "Since when did Lex Luthor get so…"

"Built?" Lana supplies.

Chloe thinks 'buff' and 'hot' are not out of the question, but there's no way she's going to commit that far.

"Well…_yeah_," she concludes, a suitable adjective eluding her. She turns to Lana with an expression of incredulity. Lana is frowning and pursing her lips, looking at the man in question.

"How did we not notice this?"

"_I_ dunno…" Chloe's forehead knits together. "Maybe – well, he always wears those suit jackets and stuff…"

"I thought reporters were supposed to be observant?"

"What?" Chloe's been busy staring at Lex's shoulders when Lana's remark hits a button. "Oh, shit – _pictures_. I have to get a shot of this." She lifts the camera, and grins at the opportunities the viewfinder presents.

"Or two, or three…" Lana muses contemplatively.

"Or four, or five…" Chloe mutters under her breath, chalking it up to the Weird that she's now shooting somewhat salacious photos of her dad's _boss_, he of the snide comments, and the smirk, and the ridiculous cars, and the wiry muscles, and the tanned sinewy arms, and the biceps, and the…whoah. She shakes her head to clear it. Definitely of the Weird.

But she still keeps shooting as Lex lifts his axe, and Tate's whistle blows her hearing into the stratosphere, and woodchips start flying, and she jumps when Lana leans in, watching the action and stage-whispering.

"He handles that axe pretty well."

"Yeah. Well, maybe it's no myth, what they say about bald men," Chloe chuckles.

Lana frowns.

"What's that?"

"Oh, you know – about bald guys being, um, proficient."

"_Proficient_?" Lana giggles naughtily. "My god – is that true?"

"Beats me. I never had a bald guy," Chloe returns with a laugh, and keeps snapping.

She moves over to catch a few angle shots, looking at the lovely angles that Lex presents and grinning. Light glints on the axe blades, and the sheen on Lex's skin as he builds up a sweat. She focuses on his neck and smiles lasciviously, the tip of her tongue sliding between her teeth, and her final word is well out of earshot.

"_Yet_."

Fin


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